


Foster Care

by grumpynymph



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Don't worry he'll chill eventually and this will get sweet, Eventual Fluff, F/M, M/M, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpynymph/pseuds/grumpynymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander isn't too happy about being fostered by a rich former army general with a large apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this: Modern!AU. George and Martha Washington are the foster parents of teenage Alexander (eventually adopt him?). Alex isn’t too keen on this to begin with but grows to love them. Bonus points for Hamilton/Laurens but Gen is cool too.
> 
> http://hamiltonprompts.tumblr.com/post/133976034058/modernau-george-and-martha-washington-are-the

The scenery flew by, slowly transitioning from vast fields, wooden fences and horses to narrow streets, tall buildings and honking cars. Alexander leaned his head against the cold glass of the car's window watching as another light turned red and the vehicle came to a stop. He swung his legs up, kicking the seat in front go him with his dirty sneakers, from the backseat he could see the grip on the steering wheel tighten as the kicks landed, but no complaint was voiced. Behind the wheel was his dubbed new foster father George Washington, a bald man with a history in the army and possibly the biggest apartment he had ever seen. When the man and the government official had first come around the house the cousin he was staying with had teased him relentlessly, calling him 'Daddy Warbucks' and singing 'The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow' every chance he got. Alexander had denied the proposal of foster care in the beginning, finding it ridiculous as long as he had a perfectly fine family member around. Why get himself into another home while he had his own blood? At least that's what he thought. A funeral and a few papers later it was decided. So there he was, in an expensive car speeding (or rather inching) towards a shiny new life he didn't want. 

Washington cleared his throat, glancing at the rear view mirror. "Martha should be home when we get to the house, I hope you don't mind breakfast for dinner." He chuckled, trailing off as he caught sight of the look on the boy's face. Alexander gave no response, keeping his gaze firmly set out the window. The light turned green. 

The sky was beginning to darken as they finally pulled into the parking garage, halting to a stop in a parking space with a small screech. It only took one trip to bring Alexander's bags up to the narrow staircase to the elevator, the only sound was the soft click of the wheels of the suitcase on the hard floor. By the time they were in the elevator Alexander could no longer control the irritatingly unpatterned tapping of his foot and the fact that he was shaking all over. The soft 'ding' of the elevator cut through the silence and made the boy jump a little. He followed after the older man as he moved through the sliding doors out into a lavish looking hall, Alexander glanced down at his sneakers, wondering if he would get in trouble for dirtying the expensive carpet. He hoped so, an argument or something other than numbing pleasentries and anxiety inducing car rides would be better than anything right then. 

 Washington walked at a steady pace down the hallway, not taking the time to glance at the elegant wallpaper or feel the soft carpet, it was clear he had been there so many times he no longer needed to. "Gilbert Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan live right there-" The man pointed to a door, complete with its own 'Welcome' mat it seemed like a place you would more likely find on an old neighborhood than a rich apartment complex. "They have a son close to your age, John. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear theres another boy in the building. Theres also another boy right next door." They landed in front of a door and he gestured to the one beside it. This one had no mat, only a polished sign reading 'No Solicitors.' "The Burrs, their boy's name is Aaron, smart kid, you two would get along." He fished a ring of keys out of his pocket, rifling through them for a moment before finding the one he was looking for and inserting it into the lock, opening the door. "Why don't you take your stuff in and I'll show you where your room is after you and Martha get aquatinted?" 

"Yeah, fine." Alexander hitched the bag further up on his shoulder glancing up at Washington for a moment before looking back down at his shoes. The man sighed softly as his foster son pushed past him into the entryway of the apartment. Although he had been there once before the wide space seemed to only get bigger and he had to take a moment to admire the paint coating the walls and the spiral staircase stretching from the main floor to whatever lied above. 

"Hello, You must be Alexander!" The boy's attention was quickly snapped to a short and warmly smiling woman nudging a piece of meat on a frying pan with a spatula, clad with a pair of tasteful sunflower kitchen mittens. "I'm Martha Washington, George's wife." She put down the pan and the spatula and slipped off the gloves to rush over to him with an outstretched hand.

Alexander let the bag slip off his shoulder and drop to the floor with a dull sound as he returned the handshake, finding her hands to be very soft. He made his first effort at a smile that evening. "Bonsoir Mrs. Washington." 

"Oh a French speaker! We have a few of those in the building, I'm sure Mr. Lafayette down the hall would be thrilled to converse with you."

The evening carried on slowly, a dinner of pancakes and bacon was served and Washington insisted on a meal in the dining room. Alexander could feel himself start to get tired and irritable as his patience with smalltalk wore thin. 

"So, do you have any interest in baseball son? Theres a local team that's won quite a few awards."

He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "No interest at all, sports aren't valuable in the long run." 

It was clear the man was affronted by his statement, making a small humming sound in the back of his throat. "And what are your plans for the long run, Alexander?"

"Law, politics, though I should probably forget that now that I'm in foster care." The boy grumbled, letting the front legs of his chair touch the ground as the chair tipped forward again.

"Alexander! Why do you say that?" Martha protested sternly.

"Its true!" He looked between the not so happy Washington's for a moment before shaking his head and getting up from the table. "I'm done, thank you." He grabbed one of his bags from the corner and did his best not to stomp out of the room. He was all the way to his bedroom door before he realized Washington had followed him out of the dining room. Too tired and insensible to think he spun around on his heel to face him, a glare on his face.

"You know I didn't ask you to take care of me, you didn't have to, I could've found another place by myself, I'm not _stupid._ " His words were sharp as they spilled out of his mouth as if he believed what he was saying was the most important thing in the world and Washington just wouldn't listen. "Now because of this damn foster care program I'll never get into a good school! They'll just see me as some sort of troublemaker, that's how it goes."

The older man's shock was betrayed by his eyes as he took a small step back from the boy, eyebrows raised clearly trying to gather a suitable response. "Ah, of course you're not stupid, but someone your age all alone isn't appropriate or safe. I know you're still upset over the way the circumstances worked out, being relocated so far away from home-" Washington's demeanor hardened a little and he seemed to hold himself straighter as he finished. "But sometimes we have to do things that are hard, we're all doing this for you."

"That's not what I'm worried about! So what if I'm far from home? I have no home." He sighed, running a hand irritably through his long hair. "Look, I just wish you would've left me more time with my cousin after he..."

"I know, and I'm sorry but it couldn't be held off any longer." When Alexander looked up again Washington's eyes were kind and understanding, he hated it. "I'm sure you've had a long day son, so why don't you just-"

"Fine." He snapped, grabbing the glass handle and jerking the door open. "But I'm not your son."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: George Washington's favorite food was pancakes   
> Stick around next time for a house (apartment?) party in which Alex gets to meet everyone!


	2. Chapter 2

In retrospect, it probably isn't a good idea to get in a fight with the man who owns the door you're sulking behind, but that's just the way things worked out. Alexander spent a whole three hours in his room after he woke up, pacing, tying and retying his ponytail, and wondering if when he finally stepped outside the door the news that he was being kicked out would follow. A cold shower and exactly 14 deep breaths later he decided he was as ready as he was ever going to be and grabbed the handle, slowly turning it and opening the door. He tried to make as little sound as possible as he crept into the living room, glancing cautiously around every corner as not to be surprised. There he found George and Martha huddled together as if discussing a secret. When they caught sight of him they jumped to their feet, the same warm grin stretched across Martha's face and a strained smile plastered on George's. 

"Alexander, good morning." George gave him a curt nod. He was painfully aware of how carful they seemed, as if he was a bomb that was about to go off. "There's something we would like to discuss with you."

The boy in question stiffened, feeling his hand start to shake again. This was the end, he was sure of it. "What is it? And if I may add I do believe I deserve a second chance before you make any big decisions, sir." 

The former general just looked at him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. After a few seconds he shook his head and chuckled. "What do you sound so nervous about young man? We're inviting some of the neighbors over for a small get together to get acquainted with you. The original plan was to invite only the families with teenagers like yourself, but I'm afraid if we didn't invite Mr. Adams there would be hell to pay." 

"Oh." Alexander allowed himself a small sigh of relief at the news. "I just thought-"

"That we were going to kick you out?" His gaze was diverted to Martha, who's brow was creased in concern. "No honey we aren't. Its a hard transition, we understand that." 

"How did you-"

"Has anyone ever told you you talk to yourself, son?"

"Oh."

Washington cleared his throat, gesturing to the clock. "The guests will be here in about an hour, so you best get ready. Don't worry Martha and I will take care of the cooking and the cleaning, though I do expect you to wear something nicer than _that_ young man, first impressions are important." 

Alexander looked down at his sweatshirt. The boy had to swallow the argument on the tip of his tongue, the garment had belonged to his brother and was dear to him. "Yeah alright, I'll see what I can do." 

The hour passed quicker than Alexander anticipated, and when the time had arrived he was hurrying around his bedroom in a panic, toothbrush hanging from his mouth and completely topless with nothing but a wrinkled pair of jeans. Great. 

_Knock knock_

"Alexander?"

_Knock knock knock_

"Alexander people are arriving!"

"Coming!" 

He grabbed an old Beastie Boys T shirt from his bag, quickly pulling it over his head and throwing the door open. It took him about 3 seconds to realize he was terribly underdressed. Standing around him were the most men wearing tuxedos he had seen in his life, all looking at him. He froze, hand still on the door handle and the expression of a deer caught in a pair of headlights clear on his face. Washington walked forward briskly, putting a hand on Alex's shoulder half guiding him and half dragging him to the center of the room. 

"It is in my utmost pleasure to introduce you all to Alexander Hamilton, my foster son." A bought of polite applause followed, some claps louder than others. As he looked around the room from where he stood in Washington's tight grasp, someone stood out to him. The boy was standing in between two other men, one with his hair pulled back in a tight bun and the other with barely any hair at all, but a very tasteful bow tie. The boy in question looked to be about the same age as himself, covered in freckles, sporting the most gorgeous smile he had ever seen, and clapping as fast and loud as he could. Alexander was charmed, to say the least. 

As soon as he could wriggle out from the man's grasp he made a beeline for the stranger he had set his eyes on. However, the universe seemed determined to get him that day, and too wrapped up in the (probably radioactive) rays of his neighbor's lovely smile, he ran straight into something. Alexander only saw black for a moment, later he realized it was a suit coat of a very tall boy with a very large scowl. 

"Watch it." The stranger stepped back, looking down at the shorter boy. His hair was probably the largest he had ever seen, untamed curls bouncing with every step. He would say he was handsome if he hadn't just insulted him. 

"Sorry, I don't know why I didn't see you coming, you take up so much space it should be easy." Alexander retorted, trying to push past him and becoming frustrated when he didn't let him. "Who are you anyways?"

"Thomas Jefferson. Ask around for it, I believe we'll be going to the same school and I'd appreciate if the foster boy the old general pitied enough to take in didn't get in my way, I've got a bit of a reputation with the student council and I'd like to keep in intact." 

On that sour note Thomas pushed him away again, stalking off in a different direction. Alexander's confusion quickly turned to anger and he took a few steps in the direction he had departed in, very tempted to pursue him and give him a piece of his mind. However a tap on his shoulder was all it took to dash those thoughts. He spun around to be met with an array of freckles and _that smile_ that made him feel like he was melting.

"That was something, if you're wondering he's always like that." The beautiful stranger laughed, sticking out his hand. "I'm John, I live a couple doors down."

Alex took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Alexander, your dad is the one who speaks French right?"

"That's right, the real skill is getting him to stop. Let me introduce you to him and my pops."

Alexander felt the best that he had felt since he had arrived at the building in that moment, feeling his cheeks glowing with it as he was led towards his new acquaintance's parents. Maybe this arrangement wouldn't be so bad after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "He would say he was handsome if he hadn't just insulted him." Alexander Hamilton in a sentence.  
> Stick around for part 2 of the house (apartment???) party where I continue to try to avoid writing more than the simplest words of French and Hamilton gets the pleasure of meeting Aaron Burr  
> Also quick explanation: Laurens calls Lafayette dad and Hercules Mulligan pops


End file.
